


Nooner

by frecklesarechocolate



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Castiel, M/M, Mechanic Dean, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-17
Updated: 2014-01-17
Packaged: 2018-01-09 00:31:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1139322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frecklesarechocolate/pseuds/frecklesarechocolate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is porn, pure and simple. AU, Dean's a mechanic, Cas is his boyfriend, and he's brought Dean lunch. He's got other plans too. Written for a prompt from <a href="http://sammyisthedoctorsblogger.tumblr.com/">Sammyisthedoctorsblogger</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nooner

“Dean?” Cas’s voice floats through the empty garage.

Dean’s underneath a Camaro, hands twisted up in the undercarriage trying to get a bolt loose.

“Yeah, Cas. Down here,” he says, wincing as something oily drips on his forehead. “Just need to get this… damn… Ah! Got it.” Dean scooches out from the car on his creeper board and looks up at his boyfriend. Cas stands next to the car, hands on his hips, and he’s smiling, eyes crinkling. In one hand he’s got a paper bag - he’d promised to bring lunch for them to share.

“You’ve got a bit of…” Cas says, pointing in the general direction of Dean’s face.

Dean hauls himself up off the ground. “Yep. Gimme a sec to wash this off, and then we can eat.”

Cas eyes Dean for a minute, and then carefully places the bag of food on one of the counters. Since it’s a Sunday, there’s no one else in the garage, which means all of the surfaces are cleared - and even clean. Cas presses his palm to Dean’s chest and pushes him against the car.

“Don’t,” Cas says. He swipes his thumb across the grease stain on Dean’s cheek. “I kind of like this look on you.”

Dean snorts a laugh. “You’re joking, right?” But Cas doesn’t look like he’s joking. In fact, he’s plastered himself against Dean, heedless of the grease that’s all over Dean’s coveralls; the grease that’s now rubbing off onto Cas’s jeans and t-shirt. Cas leans in and kisses Dean, an open mouthed, sloppy kiss that sends Dean’s heart racing.

“Cas,” Dean gasps, but Cas won’t be deterred. He pulls at Dean’s arms until they’re circling Cas’s waist, all the while kissing Dean over and over until they’re breathless. Dean tries one more time. “You’re going to get dirty.”

“Yes,” Cas groans, rolling his hips into Dean’s. Cas’s erection is hot and hard, and Dean’s dick fills in response.

Dean gets with the program, grabbing Cas’s butt and squeezing, pushing them even closer together. Cas groans again, a long, drawn out sound that rumbles through his chest. The sound settles in Dean’s belly, warm and low.

“I had no idea,” Dean pants, “that grease was such a turn on for you.”

Cas chuckles. He’s busy undoing the buttons on Dean’s coveralls, kissing along Dean’s jawline towards his ear. “You’re a turn on for me,” he whispers, his tongue darting out to lick at Dean’s earlobe.

“Cas, that’s the cheesiest…”

Cas pulls away from Dean, an irritated expression on his face. “Dean. I am trying to get you to fuck me here in the garage. Why are you being so…” Cas waves his hands, at a loss for words.

Dean looks at the ground, his face burning. “Sorry, Cas.” He tugs on Cas’s belt loops, bringing the man closer. “You keep forgetting that I’m an asshole.” Dean kisses Cas, soft touches of his lips to Cas’s cheeks, his chin, above his eyes. He rubs tiny circles with his thumb on the sliver of skin just above the waist of Cas’s jeans.

“I never forget, Dean. I just hope that one day you’ll rise above it,” Cas says. Dean can feel Cas’s smirk against his lips as he brings his mouth down to Cas’s. Their kissing is calmer now, slower as they take the time to taste each other. They sink into the kiss, breathing in the taste and smell of each other. They’re much less frenzied, suddenly remembering that it’s Sunday. There’s no rush, no need to race to a finish line. Cas doesn’t have anywhere he has to be other than right here, in Dean’s arms. Dean can finish the car later, clean up the mess with Cas’s help, and then they can go home, and spend the evening making out on the couch.

For now, though, they sway together lightly, Cas’s hands roaming against Dean’s chest. Cas makes quick work of the top half of Dean’s coveralls, slapping at Dean’s hands when they get in the way of his sleeves. Dean laughs, but lets Cas manoeuvre him how he wants so Cas can undress him. Kissing, nibbling and sucking at Dean’s skin, Cas explores Dean’s jaw line, and then his throat. He breathes in Dean’s scent with a deep inhale at the juncture where Dean’s neck meets his shoulder, murmuring Dean’s name beneath his breath.

Dean takes the opportunity to remove Cas’s shirt, then he fumbles at Cas’s belt, the metal pieces clinking together, a musical accompaniment to the sounds of their rapid breathing and the smooth slide of their hands against their skin. They take their time now, hands roaming across the bare skin of their chests, scruff scraping against scruff as they kiss. Cas sucks at Dean’s throat, bringing blood to the surface, creating a trail of tiny hickeys that he’ll admire later.

Cas kneels, taking the rest of the coveralls with him as he goes, so that Dean’s naked except for his clothes puddled around his ankles. Cas grins up at Dean through his lowered eyelashes, tongue darting out of his mouth.

And then he waits. An eternity passes between when he licks his lips to when he leans forward ever so slightly to press a soft kiss to the tip of Dean’s dick, and Dean didn’t think it was possible to get harder, but then Cas pulls this stunt. Dean opens his mouth to protest, but all that comes out is a long groan as Cas finally – _finally_ – opens his mouth and takes Dean inside.

Wet heat is all Dean feels, and then the slide of Cas’s tongue across the head of his cock. Dean slams his hand into the side of the car, wanting to grab onto something, anything, but not wanting to hurt Cas by grabbing him. Cas hums in approval, and the sound echoes through Dean, sending tiny shockwaves of pleasure throughout his body. Cas’s hands caress the back of Dean’s thighs as he pushes forward until the head of Dean’s cock bumps up against the back of Cas’s throat.

“Cas,” Dean croaks. He lets Cas go for another minute, and then cups Cas’s face, pushing him back gently. The sight of his dick slowly emerging from Cas’s lips nearly undoes Dean, but he holds himself together long enough. Just.

Cas settles back on his heels looking thoroughly debauched and intensely pleased with himself. His mouth is reddened and spit slick, his eyes dark. He raises an eyebrow at Dean, as if to say, _well_?

Dean holds out a hand to Cas, and when Cas reaches for it, he hauls Cas up, wrapping him in his arms. Their warm skin slides smoothly together and they kiss again and again while Dean walks Cas around to the hood of the Camaro. They stumble over their pants, still tucked around their ankles, and laugh, kissing all the while, hands roaming everywhere.

“God, Cas,” Dean says, breathless. “Do you…” Kiss. He can’t quite manage full sentences. “Lube?”

Wordlessly, Cas breaks their kiss long enough to pull his pants off his ankles and dig into his pocket. He pulls out a small packet and a condom, both of which he hands to Dean. Dean turns Cas around and bends him over the hood of the car. Leaning forward, he nibbles on the back Cas’s ear and brushes his fingers lightly against Cas’s hole.

“C’mon Winchester,” Cas growls, like he’s been waiting for years for this, and Dean’s taking his sweet time. Dean chuckles, but doesn’t move any faster. He kisses the back of Cas’s neck while he works him open, sloppy open mouthed kisses. He sucks on the knobs of Cas’s spine, pressing in one finger as slowly as he can, letting Cas adjust to the feel of him.

“Dean,” Cas whines, pressing back against Dean.

“What’s your hurry, sweetheart?” Dean asks. He gets an irritated huff in response, and so he takes pity on Cas, working more quickly. When he’s sure that Cas is properly prepared, he puts on the condom and uses the remaining lube. Cas turns his head, seeking Dean’s mouth, and Dean seals their mouths together as he pushes inside.

Cas moans loudly, and Dean stops, holding himself as still as he can, waiting while Cas gets used to feeling Dean inside. But Cas says, his voice breaking, “No, don’t stop.” He moves his hips backward towards Dean just as Dean’s moving forward, and before long he’s fully seated in Cas, his hips flush against Cas’s butt. He rests his forehead on Cas’s back and breathes deeply before starting to move. Cas is so hot and tight and he can barely breathe for how good he feels. Dean goes slowly at first, and then picks up the pace, responding to the  sounds Cas makes, which get more enthusiastic the harder Dean thrusts into him.

Dean reaches for Cas’s hand and laces their fingers together, needing to have as much contact between the two of them as possible. Dean loses himself in the sensations of Cas around him, under him, the sound of skin slapping against skin and the breathless little noises that punch out of Cas with every thrust. He’s babbling a stream of nonsense words, praising everything he can about Cas, his ass, his dick, his mouth, his hands; it’s like he can’t stop, and, frankly, he doesn’t want to.

“Touch yourself,” he manages to grit out, and Cas complies, jerking himself in short, hard movements in time with Dean. The tension spirals, twisting in on itself until Dean’s teetering at the edge of his orgasm. Try as he might to hold himself back, he can’t, and he comes with a bellow, ramming into Cas, trying not to collapse on top of him. Cas follows a moment later, coming in great spurts all over the hood of the Camaro beneath him.

Dean’s plastered to Cas’s back, glued there by sweat and lethargy, unwilling to move. Cas elbows him. “Dean.”

“Hm.”

“Get up, please,” Cas’s voice is even more gravelly than usual. He shoves against Dean until Dean moves, withdrawing from Cas carefully and then kissing him on the cheek. He snorts with laughter at the puddle of come on the hood of the car.

“Nice design, Cas,” Dean says, stretching. He removes the condom and ties it off, chucking it in the trash before wrapping his arms around Cas and hooking his chin on Cas’s shoulder. Cas’s arms settle around Dean’s waist and he hums contentedly.

“Did you want lunch?” Cas asks after a minute.

Dean doesn’t have to think about it for very long. “I could eat.”

Cas huffs a laugh. “Not surprised. Come on, get dressed and I’ll feed you the pie I brought you.”

“You brought me pie? You really are perfect.” Dean kisses Cas soundly and then pulls the coveralls back on. Before following Cas into his office, he cleans off the car, making a note to go over it with extra care before returning it to its owner later that week. He whistles a jaunty tune.

A nooner and pie - how much better could his life get?

 


End file.
